The Adventures of Stella Morgan and the Magical Experience
by Writer'sBlockPotterhead
Summary: Death held a grudge. The Holmes brothers had a friend. Voldemort isn't the only heir and Harry got himself a guardian. Join Stella as she grows up fighting Death's ultimate goal and explores magic with her friends cheering her on in the process. Standard Disclaimer applies.
1. Chapter 1

Once upon a time, before the world was conscious of itself, Death had created for itself a child of convenience and consequence. Her name was Morgana and whoever became a Master of Death would become hers, as were the terms of her existence. Having conscious thought worthy of a Ravenclaw she did not, could not accept this so when Merlin, who had ulterior designs on her, came to be a Master she refused to do his bidding. This resulted in chaos, chaos that would last on the battlefields for many years. Desiring a child, but knowing that it would fall into Merlin's hand, she cast a spell. Her son was born a Morgan Squib and he was free from Death's curse. When Merlin and Death found out they were furious, but decided not to kill her son. They had better plans. All subsequent children would be born male and without magic until the conditions for another Master arose. That girl, the indicator that the time was ripe, would endure the sufferings they wished on Morgana. She would serve the Master without any ability to resist. Morgana was devastated when she found out and, after Merlin's death, she made sure to scatter the Hallows once again and hoped that fate would never bring them together again. Little did all of them know though, the dark magic had made an impact on the intricacies of the line's genes. Genetic material would jump around behaving atypically causing mayhem to the girl's future chances.

Centuries ago scholars who dedicated their lives to the study theorised that such a child would naturally be a monster. Her dark magic would be all consuming, destroying even her own mother. The scholars all agreed to make it difficult for such a conception to happen. They assisted with entrenching and hiding the Morgan sons away from the Magical World and kept their secret documents far up North where no one would find them. They let the curse become a rumour, which they allowed to fall into obscurity and soon an incomprehensible falsehood of the truth. To help keep their secret a secret, they formed the Guild of Morgan accepting only the best secret keepers in the world to oversee the Morgan Squib line. Centuries later an intelligent pureblood would gain entry to the Guild. His daughter would marry into the influential and shady Andor family, which was also good at keeping secrets. Of all her children Anna stood out for embodying her family's motto of excellence. Anna, who was obsessed with the notion, had a certain penchant for research. It was at her grandfather's place where she discovered a secret she was desperate to know. Her research took her around the globe and eventually Oxford University in London where she met Stephen Morgan. By that time her obsession had morphed and grown; all caution was thrown to the wind and she eloped with him thinking that she could prove the scholars wrong. This did not work.

On a dark and devastatingly cold evening Stephen Morgan only heard one sound above the storm that raged outside: his wife, Anna's yells as she fought through child labour in the maternity ward of St Bartholomew's Hospital. Nurses and doctors rushed around frantic about the severe condition of their patient whose contractions were speeding up in time with her heart rate. Stephen was still trying to accept that it was too late to operate, that it would be fatal to both mother and child. He didn't give a damn about the child, that monstrous abomination sucking the life out of his perfect wife; rather he wished that anything could be done to save his dying wife even if it meant aborting their daughter. Through her agony Anna had reached out to Stephen and gained his attention her sweat drenched red face having an expression of utmost desperation. His eyes widened in joy hopeful that she would finally agree with him on the child.

"Stephen?" she had managed to pant out.

"Yes, love," he replied eagerly.

"I think it's true, the Morgan Squib line curse, and I don't have enough time," her face crumpled in pain. "My sister, contact her, she will know what to do when the time comes."

"It's all right, love, everything will be fine," he tried to reassure her.

"No, Stephen," she looked around madly. "I made a mistake. If this ever gets out, if anyone knows who she really is-"

"Anna, look at me," her eyes met his and they softened.

"Oh, Stephen, my amazing and incredible Stephen," her other hand reached out and cupped his face. "I love you."

It was in his stupefied state of wonder and horror that he felt it, a slight tick somewhere in his head as if a neuron had misfired. His wife's lovely face scrunched up and doctors and nurses rushed about. A towel was collected. A snip was registered before his wife's final scream of agony was silenced. His child was gently placed in his arms and a nurse led him away while Anna Morgan's body was wheeled to the morgue. The paperwork regarding her death and the birth of their monstrous child was completed in a hazy daze by Stephen, who held his child as her dark brown eyes blinked in amazement almost as if it knew what was happening. On February the thirteenth, nineteen seventy-nine Anna Morgan (nee Andor) was murdered by the birth of her daughter, Stella Ari Morgan. Far away in an abstract land Death grinned as he let Anna move on, revenge on his obstinate daughter would be sweet.


	2. Formative Years: Part One

The first time Stephen almost had a heart attack was when Stella was two years old and toddled into the kitchen with her blanket and a red, tearful expression scrunched on her dark features. That was the one of the two times he had ever seen such human emotion on his daughter's face and it made him go cold. Even as a baby she had not made so much as a whine which always had his friend, Mary Holmes, narrowing her eyes in envy despite the fact that her boys were hardly a hassle, themselves. The fork he was holding clattered to the floor, a great ringing sound echoed through the kitchen, only softened by his rustling to crouch near her to find out what was so dreadfully wrong. Despite the cringe she had learned to expect from her touching him, Stella placed her tiny arms around her father's neck and squeezed with the limited strength a toddler could posses. Stephen was surprised, but humoured her.

"What's wrong, soldier?" he asked.

"Dumb door got James's cloak, James not safe without cloak," she said her voice sounding raw. "Dumb door got wand so he safe, James not safe. What about Harry?"

"Who is James and Harry?" he asked alarmed and continued. "What dumb door?"

"James is Harry's dad and a bad man with the stone is looking for them and Lily, Harry's mum," she started and continued breathlessly. "Dumb door owns a school and wants to stop bad man, but he shouldn't take the cloak."

"Where do you know this from?" his alarm was growing steadily.

"I can see it up here," she pointed a finger to her head. "Not always, but when I think really hard I can see all of them even bad man, but my head gets really sore so I stop."

"Oh, well I am sure that James, Harry and Lily will be fine so we don't need to worry about them," he did not believe in his words and his sense of unease got worse with her next words.

"But they won't be! Bad man heard a proxy about Harry and now Harry is in trouble with no cloak to hide them," she wailed into his shoulder.

"Relax," he patted her awkwardly. "Dumb door owns a school right?"

"Yes?" was her sniffled response.

"Well, he's got to be really clever," he hoped this would work or he would have to ring Mary again. "Maybe he's got a plan that he isn't telling anyone about."

"Why would he do that?" her voice sounded closer to normal.

"Maybe he is scared that bad man will find out and then it won't work," he was thoroughly relieved.

"Maybe," she said and took a few steps back with a thoughtful expression on her face. "I'm going back to bed."

"Sure thing, good night soldier," he waved her off glad that his ploy worked, but he needed some answers fast. The next morning while Stella still slept he rang Mary.

Later that year Stephen almost had a heart attack again when he woke up in the middle of the night to Stella's desperate wails and incoherent ramblings about how that James, and Lily were dead and that Harry was all alone and Dumb door had failed her because bad man was still alive. That evening he made a desperate call to Mary and that was how Stella moved in with the Holmes family. Stephen, fearing that his presence alone was enough to trigger a magical reaction of this kind, decided that it would be best if she grew up with other children instead of the University and having a parental figure who wouldn't shudder at the mere thought of her. Something in his heart panged about those accusatory eyes that faced him as the cab drove off. He brushed it aside because it was for the best, anyway.

Stella had found her place in the Holmes family. She loved the dog. She was fascinated by her new parental figures that would help her with her home schoolwork and wouldn't cringe at her touch. She adored her new brothers as they had become to her, she would cling to them when school wouldn't demand her attention and together they would embark on many adventures, Mycroft always being the bossy voice of reason. It was during an adventure when they discovered that she was magical.

It was a cold day and they were busy playing hide and seek. Sherlock and her, not fully understanding the objective of a winning hider, hid together in the back garden. She had felt extremely cold and had wanted to be warmer than a flame when a small fire had started. Sherlock's reaction had Mycroft finding them easily for him to have his victorious smirk wiped off his face. They had decided to research the matter and to get Stella to hone her skills which was a success considering that all of them were exceptionally bright children. When Stella had told them the marvellous concept of a Mind Palace they went head over heels happy and that had become their next project to master. They went cold after the dog had passed. Their minds had become more analytical and they had learned how to use detail to inform. It was when she was nine that Stella had found all of her mother's old research notes which she copied at the University and took as material for their next mission. When they read them for the first time they decided that the Morgan Squib line curse wasn't that interesting of a case and that it was fairly obvious that other magicians existed. So their previous project had been continued and made them better creating an immature genius level in them. Stephen had been correct. She had forgotten, or simply didn't mention, the dreams that plagued her infancy and had moved on. He almost breathed a sigh of relief until an eagle bought him some unpleasant news on her eleventh birthday.

 _Stephen Morgan_

 _I believe it is high time we finally meet and discuss Stella's future. We both know that it would be in the best interests of all of us. I will meet you tomorrow in the entrance of the Science department at four pm. Please be there._

 _Your sister-in-law_

 _Sarah Andor_

Not wanting to incur her wrath he cancelled his four o'clock appointment and waited anxiously for his sister-in-law. At precisely four, she had appeared. Sarah Andor was the last of her siblings left unmarried and spent her time as a scholar. Despite her humble profession she was imposing as an individual and her studious life had given her an arsenal of magic at her disposal. They had decided to bring their meeting to Stephen's cottage on the University's grounds where it would be more private. After refusing his offer of tea the two of them sat in the living room and the awkward silence was punctured by Sarah.

"Stella is now eleven," she pointed out the obvious.

"Yes, and that means?" he arched an eyebrow.

"Sometime during the summer a letter and maybe a professor will arrive from Hogwarts to inform you of her place there," she said rolling an idea around in her head. "She will not be attending this year."

"Why ever not?" he blurted his face scrunched in a confused frown.

"My family, the Andors, believe that she is not ready," she began and continued with a roll of her eyes. "I trust Anna told you about herself and, further, who you are related to?"

"Yes, but I don't see how this is at all relevant," he said and she sighed.

"Firstly Stella's mother belongs to one of the most notorious dark pureblood families on the planet, a family which would like to start fading into obscurity very soon. Secondly her father belongs to the Morgan Squib line, which has only been a rumour. Thirdly said Morgan Squib created said child who would have to suffer for not being kept a secret," she listed to his growing horror. "Have you now grasped the concept that Stella needs to learn how to keep her magic under control and how to keep her secret a secret or would you rather she fall prey to the curse's ramifications?"

"Is it really that bad?" he asked trying to find a silver lining.

"Yes, if anyone finds out her true lineage her life would become horrible. Not even the family name of Andor would be able to stop people from trying to posses her, there would be countless wars to become the Master and she would only suffer, as her soul grows colder and darker. No one must find out, but they will if we don't get this year to train Stella." She finished.

"Very well," Stephen's heart was heavy remembering Anna's determination to uncover the secret only to desperately cover it up once she had gotten attached to the child. "What needs to be done?"

"Next week at the same time I will be here to collect Stella to take her to Stockholm, this will hopefully stand under the scrutiny of the authorities here because when that letter and teacher arrives you are going to inform them that she has taken a yearlong sabbatical and won't be available, but next year will be grand. My family will keep Stella hidden in order to teach her the art of secret keeping and the ability to manage her magic to maintain a perfect facade." Sarah explained calmly.

"Okay," he said and sighed knowing that Stella would have something to say about being taken away from her newfound family.

"Good, now if that will be all," Sarah stood suddenly.

"Wait!" he exclaimed and she froze while he continued desperately. "Are you sure that this curse holds any validity? This Master of Death, is it actually possible?"

"Stephen," she said with a tired expression. "We have been searching the globe for alternative possibilities, anything that would make it impossible, but after Anna's death and Gregorovitch confirming the existence of the Elder wand we had to face the truth and prepare ourselves. Stella cannot face the world as she is."

"It's such a shame, isn't it?" he said a touch of resentment colouring his tone.

"What?" she asked confused.

"Anna believed that she could prove all the scholars wrong and in the end she unwittingly proves their theory correct," he said ironically.

"I don't get where the shame in that is, she made her family very proud," she stated proudly.

"She died so that Death could share the load, it isn't right," his tone was bitter and final. "There is nothing to proud of in that."

That evening Stephen had gotten himself royally drunk for the first time since his days as a University student. Sarah Andor's visit had opened the wounds that were still healing around Anna's death. Stephen had often oscillated between hatred towards his daughter for murdering her mother, his self for putting the monster in her, Merlin for being a lecherous brat, Death for being such an awful father and Morgana for wanting a child in the first place. Depending on the time of year he would be stuck in those states pushing down his inner feelings of anguish over losing the love of his life. He couldn't understand how their love for each other had created such hatred in the form of Stella and that was why he had become indifferent to his child's needs. That evening his heart screamed in agony while he downed the hurriedly purchased alcohol in his dark living room.

Stephen had been correct in his assumption that Stella would not take the news of her new living arrangement very kindly. First there had been a screaming match on the telephone, and then there had been her silence, her denial to the point of not being packed had made him frustrated and nervous at the same time. What if she behaved badly with the Andors? That wasn't his problem though, a shaky thought had replied with as much malice as possible. With a lot of effort though, he had gotten her packed and ready for the arrival of Sarah. Again he felt regret when her good bye to the Holmes family seemed to cause her great pain. Sarah had met Stella with kindness, but he saw that Stella had noticed the look of greed that had entered Sarah's eyes and felt nervous yet again. Once Sarah had vanished with Stella, Stephen felt his insides clench and he threw up knowing that he had made a very big mistake.

Had Stella been there to hear him voice these thoughts out loud she would have rolled her eyes and agreed with the most disparaging comment at his expense. The Andors weren't much of an issue to her because they had taught her much more than she had expected to learn, more than any student should know, and they had attempted to sway her into the dark. Despite her instant grasping and understanding of the dark arts, she had been adamant to uphold the morals she had built with the Holmes brothers. She was amused when they had Gregorovitch create an exact replica of the Elder wand for her thinking that their sick sense of humour was bound to end tragically for them. They had been impressed with the concept of the Mind Palace and experimented enough to attach some magical meaning to it. They shoved reading material on to her at a rate that had forced her to become a moderately fast reader, which pleased them. Their main aim, however, was to teach her about the Wizarding World and how to keep a secret. It was the Guild of Morgan that irked her.

"What is your aim in life?" an old, woolly looking man in a long dark robe leaned over and asked her in a feeble suspicious voice.

"To protect the ones I love," Stella had replied instantly with two boys sitting at the forefront of her mind.

"Do you feel any urges to lie, steal or kill?" the man had asked and Stella narrowed her eyes at him.

"I am not going to become a stupid dark witch," she said and the man had rushed back to his fellow Guild members and they spoke amongst each other in serious hushed tones.

"Hello, I am still here!" she had been flabbergasted at their behaviour until they seemed to agree on something when the woolly man had returned to his leaning position in front of her.

"Do you know where the Hallows are?" he had asked her.

"Yes," she had replied shortly.

"Interesting," he mused and then asked excitedly. "Do you know where Death is?"

"Isn't Death everywhere?" her rhetoric was biting and he winced at her remark until his expression changed to ruminative.

"Do you feel any form of allegiance or desire to serve anyone?" he peered into her eyes.

"Sort of," his eyes grew wide so she explained. "It is split three ways right now so it is much diluted, but I am sure that if we keep the Hallows separated time will simply make it fade."

"Hmm," he didn't seem very convinced when he had rushed back to the group of waiting men.

As it had turned out, the Guild of Morgan had staked a claim on Stella stating that they were the keepers and protectors of Morgan. They had gone on further to say that they were entitled to be part of her education and granted themselves the part time right to teach and guide her. That was a set up all agreed could only last a year in order to keep the secret. So they had taught her secrecy and conducted an experimental guiding and focussing of the magic that had come with the curse. There had been plenty of fights between the Guild of Morgan and the Andor family with disagreements about Stella's path arising many times. The Guild, while bursting with glee at the possibilities that the curse's absolution had come to light, had wanted to keep Stella light and the potential of a Master down. The Andor family had wanted to turn Stella into one of them, a dark magician obsessed with excellence. Stella did grant the Guild the favour of keeping to her principles while being glad for the split ownership of the Hallows, but she wasn't idealistic and made the Andor family happy by absorbing all of their lessons and pegged herself to be a Ravenclaw.

Having snagged a Christmas break with the Holmes family, Stella was only able to complete their final examination of her late April in nineteen ninety-one. It would dictate whether or not she was ready for the "outside world" as they had so reverently referred to it. The examination took place in a chamber of the Guild's and she had quite a spectator crowd that was gathered. The greatest Legilimens from the Guild and the Andor family each had been elected to test her skills of lying. They had insisted that she stood throughout the examination, as it would only prove her mind.

"This is no small test," Bjorn Andor had said sternly. "We are not going to be holding back on anything."

"Yes, I know," she said exasperated. "Risk of exposure will lead to exposure."

"We are about to start, now!" Sarah called through the room. "Everyone shut it."

"So I was walking to the kitchen this morning when an owl flies right through my father's cottage!" Stella exclaimed loudly to the silence and everyone focussed with rapt interest. "Can you believe it?! An owl in the middle of the day! And then this letter drops from its feet! I had no idea what I was supposed to do!"

"Really, have we met before?" Bjorn asked maintaining eye contact and her features morphed into bewilderment and blankness.

"No," she said then carried on. "They took me to an amazingly magical place called Diagon Alley where I got these cool books, some strange robes and a wand!"

"What's your name, sweetie? Where are your parents?" he placed a false look of concern on his face while deepening his gaze.

"My name is Stella Morgan, my father is just busy at the grocers," she replied politely and started jumping up and down with excitement. "Then they took me to a magical place called Hogwarts. It was so amazing to see so much magic and it was so different to my usual boring life. I got sorted into Ravenclaw!"

"Are you related to Salazar Slytherin? Do you speak Parseltongue?" the questioning turned more personal.

"Who and what is that?" she replied blankly a question mark seared into her mind, but soon carried on with a sad musing expression. "My first day was awful. I got lost trying to get to Potions and while I was running around a big scary Slytherin made fun of me, called me a Mudblood because my mother and father couldn't do any magic."

"Have you met Death?" his next question made everyone hold their breaths, she had never been able to stand against that one.

"Death is an abstract concept, the intangible is everywhere," she had replied with a cool expression almost daring an attack and he stood there glaring into her eyes.

"Very good, Stella," he patted her on the shoulder and then called to the crowd. "House of Andor passes Stella!"

A cheer passed through the Andor family while the Guild simply stood looking unimpressed. Sarah calmed them down as Robert Grey, a Guild member, placed himself in front of Stella. Her empty eyes met his intense gaze. The audience held its breath. Her eyes flicked over his body examining him; most likely an agoraphobic her thoughts noted and her eyes narrowed expecting his next cutting remark.

"Are you Death?" he asked and slipped into her mind.

She felt it instantly and closed the gates to her Mind Palace turning them into a great mirror. He pushed lightly and apprehensively against the slight crack in the middle and smiled when the mirror melted away. He sent the gates crashing down with his mind and smirked as they reassembled themselves when he was already walking down the familiar path to Hogwarts. At the front doors he waved his hand lazily and they banged open. He took his time strolling through the corridors of Hogwarts peering into rooms finding nothing out of the ordinary. He took his search more personal and searched for hidden rooms, he tried rooms that looked out of place, and he turned the castle upside down looking for something which did not show itself. The more the something was not found the more inventive he became; he would blast holes through walls and raze rooms that frustrated him. The castle looked like a ruin by the time he had an idea. He ran and jumped through rubble that littered floors that had gaping holes, he dodged an on fire beam that fell and found his destination. He kicked aside the remains of the door and ran towards the sink, which he blasted away. A gaping hole in the ground was left which he jumped into with a triumphant yelp. He flew down the pipe feeling that success was near only to tumble into a heap at the front gates of Hogwarts again.

They had become a mirror again and he saw the great castle burning and tumbling to the ground in the distance. He was about to touch the mirror, but thought better of it; there was nothing left to destroy. He paced the length of the gates debating with his self. Was there anything he could have missed? Her mind had chucked him out when he was at his final point of destroying it, very realistic, but he worried and thinking that a double check was in order he placed his palm on the mirror. He did not anticipate being thrown back into his own mind with memories of his childhood rushing up to meet him, particularly painful memories which had him cringing as she saw everything he had tried to keep from the world. When she had reached the book he cut the connection flinging them back into their own minds. He looked shaken while she looked positively green.

"That last bit," he ground out. "What is that?"

"A fail safe contingency," she replied with a faint voice. "If someone thinks to look at the Chamber's entrance they are obviously not welcome and my mind will chuck them out. If they try again, Occulems or not, they will have certain weaknesses displayed."

"Very intelligent, a tad bit dramatic, but that displays some of your believable character traits," he said and turned to the room at large. "The Guild of Morgan passes Stella!"

A cheer of relief passed through the Andor family and the other Guild members nodded their heads clearly still reserved about letting Stella go, but happy at that time that her abilities were passable. The person in question had smiled a peaky smile and had excused herself to the bathroom where she had emptied the contents of her stomach. False mind or not, to have it invaded and destroyed took energy and resolve out of her. It left her with a migraine of epic proportions and had her mind feeling blurred. It was at this point that she really wished that none of the Morgan rubbish had happened. That evening, as the Andor family celebrated success and the Guild of Morgan convened a meeting, she hid away in the darkest room she could find in order to repair the damage while the opiates she had nicked made her head feel happy.

It was good to be home, she had thought when Sarah had vanished leaving her behind in the United Kingdom. She had felt a sense of relief wash over her when she took in her room at the University and graciously collapsed onto her bed planning on taking a nap until Stephen had the gall to interrupt her to find out how she was doing.

"I feel fine," she mumbled into her pillow.

"They didn't hurt you, did they?" he asked nervously and she turned her head towards him a critical eye giving him a once over.

"Other than the Andors insisting I go dark and the Guild wanting to lock me in a cage and throw away the key in fear of this, nothing that wasn't necessary," she cocked an eyebrow at him. "You don't need to be nervous, pointless emotion anyway, and worrying is a waste of time."

"I do though," he said.

"Don't," she said with finality that ended the conversation.


	3. Formative Years: Part Two

As everyone had expected, her Hogwarts letter had come with a teacher. Professor Severus Snape to be precise and Stella had instantly turned on her false memory filter when she had opened the door to him. She had recognised him from a peculiar set of memories when she was about two years old. He had been desperate to save Lily Potter, but when her son was the survivor he had changed sides in a dormant war. She pitied the shell he had become. Nevertheless, he had no difficulty in getting them to believe that Stella was capable of magic; he only had to levitate the chair she had been seated in and start the fire in the hearth. He seemed irked when the two Morgans had begged for his help with the Diagon Alley part of the day because they wouldn't have a clue about what they were doing. He was surprised and pleased to see the amount of books Stella had purchased from Flourish and Blotts, but became apprehensive at the dangerous extra ingredients she had purchased as her potions supply. He frowned when she had hurried on the shop assistant at Madam Malkin's, but everything else had been forgotten at Olivanders. She entered apprehensively as her adult companions were forgotten and drifted nervously towards the vacant front counter.

"Err, hello?" she called out with a clear determined voice.

"Ah! A young one!" the old wand maker wheezed out as he shuffled to the front of the store. "And Severus Snape what a joy to see you here, what can I do for you miss?"

"Stella Morgan," she replied with a frown and continued assertively. "I am here to purchase a wand."

"Yes, a wand," he mused and snapped his fingers. He moved to study the wands on the shelves while a measuring tape took her measurements. "It is often that people need a wand, but very often that a wand doesn't need a person. Try this, Dragon heartstring and nine inches."

Feeling strange she took hold of the wand he had offered her and nothing happened. He quickly took the wand away muttering to his self as he walked deeper into the shelving space. "Perhaps, but I really don't think, ten inches, Holly and Phoenix feather." Nothing happened with the next wand he had placed into her hands. Soon they had accumulated a pile of wands which only made Ollivander search harder insistent that he has always been able to sell a wand to a customer. It was after he had violently snatched away a fourteen inch, chestnut and unicorn hair wand that he had struck on to a thought. "Impossible," he had breathed. "No, it is not impossible, but why that one?" He shuffled away to the very back of the room and stood musing about his next move. When he returned he held a dust covered case and opened it carefully. "It appears your wand has been hiding away for quite some time, twelve inches, yew and the hair of a Thestral." He passed her the wand and she had felt it instantly. The wand fitted her better than the replica had and she distantly registered the wand maker's cheer of delight. Stephen had come forward to pay for the wand and she had snapped out of her trance with an inquisitive frown.

"Sorry, but you said it had been waiting a long time, what do you mean?" she asked tucking the wand away safely.

"Many years ago, when I first started making wands, I think, I was enjoying a break of cool air after an evening of intense work," he started his tale. "I was just about to go inside when I had noticed something in the skies. It was this lone Thestral which had the saddest expression I have ever seen an animal wear. I had moved to comfort it when all of a sudden it shakes itself out, like a horse does, and a piece of its hair floats to the ground. It seemed like fate and after I had retrieved the hair it had given me this most mournful expression and flew off. The next morning I had found the Yew tree which donated its wood by falling into my garden destroying my fence. I decided that this combination was just short of a miracle hence its length. You see, Miss Morgan, fate works in funny ways."

"Indeed, funny," was her dry remark as her narrowed eyes found professor Snape watching their exchange with a curious expression. She would have to watch out for him.

Watch him she did during the Sorting Ceremony that year. She had experienced a very disgruntled morning in which Stephen had bothered over her insisting she had a full breakfast and she should take some sandwiches with her on the train because she would need her energy to stand up to the very scary students and teachers of Hogwarts. When they had arrived at Kings Cross Station they had bumped into the Grangers who were also new to the Hogwarts experience and had helped make it easier for Stella to leave her panic stricken father behind as she crossed the barrier with the promise that she would write if anything bad happened. She and the Grangers' child, Hermione, had found a compartment with Neville Longbottom although, their presence hadn't lasted long. Hermione and Neville ran off to find his lost toad while Stella was too nervous to walk about amongst the other students so pretended she had a migraine and needed to get some rest. She had been very wary of the boat trip scoffing at the thought that the boats could competently and safely ferry the first years to Hogwarts. She smirked when she saw it through her own eyes for the first time, her mind had really done it justice, although, she was itching to figure its secrets out. Initially she had worried about how she was going to deal with her Sorting Hat problem, but found confidence in the fact that it could be stalled in its decision.

"Morgan, Stella!" her name had been called out by professor McGonagall indicating that it was her turn to be Sorted.

She calmly strode over to the Hat and focussed on the mirror which was firmly sealed and welded into the front gates of the Hogwarts of her mind. The Great Hall was obscured by the rim of the Hat and she thought it rather impractical to have such a large object for such small children. "Ah, I have never seen a Morgan before, that is so refreshing, but where do we belong?" Instead of jumping at the Hat's voice, she focussed all her energy on her Ravenclaw attributes hiding away the rest of her mind. "Oh, now I know exactly where, RAVENCLAW!" the Hat roared out and she practically skipped to the Ravenclaw table where they were politely clapping her on. She turned to give professor Snape a grinning wave and subconsciously took note of professor Quirrel who had a pale expression on his face. She squinted then flicked her eyes over to the Headmaster, professor Dumbledore, making sure to seem innocuous about it. She itched to run up to him, grab the Elder wand and snap it in half to end the Guild's woes, but instinct held her back and she was quick to avert her eyes when his inquisitive gaze turned to her.

Stella had found greater difficulties than Hermione Granger had in fitting in at Hogwarts. Not only was she ostracised for her biting tongue and intimidating intelligence, she was also mercilessly taunted by the older Slytherins for her seemingly impure blood. It appeared that despite all the Guild's efforts the name Morgana had attached itself to her as an insulting jab at her expense. Of course nobody had any clue about the truth behind the tale they had been fed by their parents, but to be placed in the same category of evil stung after the Guild's ruthless insistence that she was. After she had concluded that even Granger was somewhat put off her having being sorted into Gryffindor, her loneliness drove her into her old habits. She would throw herself into her school work earning marks that outshone Granger's, but never managed to get as much appraisal, and when that stopped filling the void she resorted to figuring out the secret on the third floor and, most importantly, professor Quirrel's issue. Her confrontation of him was catalysed into action after the debacle that was October the thirty-first and she had managed to corner him in the early hours of the morning in an abandoned corridor near the Library.

"Professor Quirel, wait! I have a question for you!" she had called after him while running to the expectant, but quivering man.

"Miss Morgan, what are you doing out at this hour?" he asked trying to push as much authority into his wavering voice as possible.

"I snuck into the Library for extra reading material and lost track of time," she lied, what she had actually been doing was searching every corner of the castle for him after it had become apparent that the troll had been defeated by Potter and Weasley. "Anyway, I have a question for you."

"Yes, is it concerning the essay?" he asked looking around anxiously.

"No, I finished that yesterday while you were letting the troll in," she said casually and blurted out her question. "Why did you do that? Does it have anything to do with the secret on the third floor?"

"Impossible," he breathed his eyes widening and he cringed as if the memory of pain. "What gave me away? I doubt you even know what Legillimency is so what grand powers have you used to find me out?"

"Oh, many things," she said smirking when he had dropped all senses of the facade he had been carrying around. "Many little tells which, to a trained eye, are difficult to miss. So what is your little secret? Are you harbouring any ill will towards the school?"

Her words had hit their mark, but his reaction she did not enjoy. He had pulled out his wand and his spell had barely left his lips before she ducked out of the way drawing her own. She was ready for his next curse and deflected it easily, but she was beginning to panic images of a furious Guild flashing through her mind. She sent a quick " _confundus_ " his way which he deflected. She then attempted to disarm him only for him to deflect that one as well. She growled and was preparing to cast another hex when his Cruciatus Curse hit her in the chest. She sunk to her knees as pain greater than anything she had experienced overwhelmed her, pain that she was able to think through. She held her screams in desperately thinking of a way to end their duel fast and a solution came to her. He lifted the curse with a gleam in his eyes, ready to finish her off, prepared to please his master by silencing the insolent Mudblood, but paused at the murderous look in her eyes. His hesitation cost him. Her curse blasted through his leg shattering the bone in his shin causing a pained shriek to leave his lips and for him to fall to the ground.

"We will meet again, Quirrel!" she shouted as she made a quick escape, but his master wanted other things done.

"Quick! Kill her now!" his high cold voice echoed through the halls as Quirrel panted in pain.

"Master, please!" he froze in his struggles as he saw that she had turned at the end of the corridor with a calculated expression on her face.

"Hurry!" his master spoke again and her expression changed causing her to rush away.

"Master, she escaped!" he pleaded while scrabbling to get his wand.

"Fool! This will cost us dearly," his master spoke and he cringed at the disappointment he sensed from his master.

Foolish was not in Stella's vocabulary and for the rest of the year she kept her investigation quiet attempting on many occasions to let Professor Dumbledore know what was going on even going so far as to corner Professor Snape at some point to tell him her fears. Professor Dumbledore refused to meet her and Professor Snape had told her not to bother him with childish fantasies, that he had better things to occupy his time with. When she had discovered that it was the Philosopher's Stone that was in danger she had refused to look anyone in the eye for a week out of silent protest which had her other teachers sighing in frustration over her belligerence. She and Quirrel had avoided each other for the rest of the year. After Harry Potter found himself in the Hospital Wing at the end of the year she had a round of the guessing game and managed to get into Professor Dumbledore's office. She had been sitting there for some time before he had shown up and she coldly eyed his genial surprised face as he moved to sit down.

"Miss Morgan," he greeted her pleasantly. "What can I do for you?"

"I told you so," she glared at him. "In all of my important letters to you, I told you that Quirrel was harbouring Tom Riddle and you did nothing. Now Harry Potter and his friends have had a stroke with Death and it is your fault for not listening to me!"

"Calm down, dear one, have a seat," she sat down still glaring. "Tell me how you figured it all out."

"Well," she huffed. "After Quirrel let the troll in, I figured that something big was up so I confronted him. I wouldn't have known anything more if he hadn't tried to curse me then. As I was running away something peculiar happened; Riddle was speaking, he told Quirrel to kill me and that was when everything else fell together. I figured that there was a secret that Riddle would kill for hidden on the third floor and I rightly figured it out. The Philosopher's Stone would be exactly what Riddle would want."

"Interesting," he said X-raying her eyes, but she had come prepared with her false Mind Palace put in place. "How come you never helped Harry and his friends with their quest with the Stone?"

"They are children!" she exclaimed outraged. "Children shouldn't be thrown into the face of danger!"

"You are also a child," he reminded her.

"I have a civic duty," she bristled. "I will not ignore the wrong doings of adults who should know better."

"Rightly so," he said and his brow creased in concern. "How has your year been at Hogwarts, otherwise?"

"I would be lying if I said it was the most amazing year I have experienced," she said with a resigned and pained expression. "Learning magic has been wonderfully refreshing compared to the theoretical restrictions of Science, but I find it hard to relate to people here. They seem to live in this fantasy where there is only good and all evil has been purged. I can't accept their idealisms because I know that sooner or later Riddle will want to take his stand again and that the world simply doesn't work like that."

"Oh," he seemed taken aback. "I am glad that you enjoy your learning so much, but the people. The people may need some convincing of this. The Slytherins, they haven't hurt you too much, have they?"

"Nothing that I can't fight off myself," she replied with a sigh.

"Very well, I am sure that you are looking forward to a quiet summer vacation," he said kindly.

"Only the best kind of quiet," she smiled tiredly and rose to her feet. "I shouldn't keep you from your paperwork regarding this mess with the Stone. Goodnight professor."

"Goodnight Miss Morgan," he replied gently and she missed his look of great curiosity as she walked out of his office.

That summer it was with great relish that she packed away both of her wands snarling slightly at the sight of her Elder wand wannabe and she delighted in locking away her school books. Her delight did not last long, however, when the Holmes brothers had wanted to take a look at all of them their curiosity getting the better of them. She did manage to bask in a completely Muggle holiday only interrupted once with a visit from a representative of the Andor family and the Guild as an official progress report which she wouldn't allow to blacken her jovial mood. The Andors were disappointed that she hadn't gone dark and the Guild wasn't happy about her unfortunate nickname, but she assured them that their secrecy lessons had paid off because she didn't have anyone bothering her. She was happy that her father hadn't become an overbearing anxiety stricken maniac during the course of the year and she was ecstatic that she got to spend two whole months with the Holmes family. Time had flown though, and as all things in her life did, her happiness had come to an end with September the first.

She had held her breath at the Opening Feast and when Potter and Weasley had not shown up she knew something was wrong and groaned attracting the attention of Luna Lovegood, the strange first year who had attached herself to Stella the moment she saw her. Lovegood had said something about keeping imaginary creatures away because they interfered with brain waves or something of the sort while Stella had immediately glared in the direction of the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, but figured that he was a self-serving phoney and that she wouldn't learn an ounce of Defence from him that year. She had attempted to investigate Potter and Weasley's disappearance after the Feast except Lovegood had decided that she was better equipped as a leader than the prefects and followed her around until she finally led them to the Ravenclaw Tower figuring that early morning investigations were better for her health. She didn't get a break in her case until the end of October when the Chamber of Secrets had opened. She was furious at that one and had barged into Professor Lockhart's office where Mr Filch had been in the middle of demanding justice for his petrified cat.

"The Chamber of Secrets, you have got to be kidding me!" she yelled all filters turned off glaring at professor Dumbledore while everyone else stood slack jawed and ignored by her. "You know who is at the bottom of this!"

"Miss Morgan, how nice of you to join us," he tried to calm her down. "Why don't you wait outside until we are all done here?"

"No! I am going to get to the bottom of this and this time you better listen to me!" she yelled and, red-faced, she stormed out of the office.

"Albus?" professor McGonagall asked shocked while everyone else stood still and silent, not sure what to do. "Are you sure she is safe out there and why is she so blatantly breaking the rules?"

"She's Stella Morgan, I fear there is little that can stop her," he had replied his expression weary and tired.

Contrary to professor Dumbledore's fears, Stella did find difficulty in finding out how Tom Riddle had managed to open the Chamber of Secrets again because all of a sudden her teachers had started loading her with extra credit work which irked her. She knew that they had conspired together to stop her attempts at figuring out how it was done and every time she had to sit in the Library for extra credit work infuriated her. Not to mention that Lovegood had become her shadow making floor detective work difficult. So when Potter had himself a rogue bludger, she had felt that Christmas had come early. That evening he had stayed in the Hospital Wing re-growing the bones in his arm she had snuck in and hid away listening for clues that would give her any idea about the way forward.

By the early hours of the morning she had slipped out victorious: not only had professor Dumbledore told professor McGonagall that her extra credit had to be cut, but she also knew that the owners of a House-Elf named Dobby were in huge trouble. She went back to the drawing board and took an inventory of all the Pureblood families in Hogwarts; she eliminated suspects and worked her way down to the Malfoy family. The son wasn't the problem, he was far too arrogant to think something of this nature through, she knew little of the wife, but with a smirk concluded that Malfoy senior was going to be in a great deal of trouble. How, though. The Chamber was one of Riddle's greatest kept secrets. Perhaps it was an unwitting plot. Perhaps Riddle had passed on an object to Malfoy senior, in the knowledge of his irk-full position on the board of governors, saying that it would cause trouble at Hogwarts. Perhaps Malfoy senior had found an opportunity to kill two birds with one stone. Get rid of professor Dumbledore by alleviating himself of the burden of Riddle's possession.

What exactly the object was, was what she wondered about for months until Granger and Penelope Clearwater, a fellow Ravenclaw, were found petrified. In the confusion of everyone being ushered back to their common rooms with the cancellation of the Quidditch match, she found a way to hide in the Library. Once the commotion had calmed down she had snuck into the darkened Hospital Wing again where she knew that no one would be bothering her as she thought. That was the final straw for the teachers, the restrictions were evidence enough, and would it also be Malfoy senior's final straw, though. She had to find out so she silently made her way to the Headmaster's office and hid behind the door as she listened to the insipid Minister grapple with the situation.

He was convinced of Riddle's lie all those years ago about Hagrid opening the Chamber so much so that he insisted that he be removed to Azkaban. She controlled her rage, aided by the fact that professor Dumbledore had told the Minister that it would be better to ask Hagrid about the allegations against him. She had hurriedly hid in an alcove when the two of them had stepped outside and were making their way towards the grounds. Better stick with the target, were her thoughts as she followed them silently and in the shadows away from the patrolling teachers and prefects. She groaned when she saw that it was professor Snape guarding the front doors so let the other two go before she jumped into action. Casting several Confundus charms in succession she slipped out of the doors and sprinted to Hagrid's Hut. Pleased that she had gotten there before Malfoy senior, she sat on the front step of Hagrid's Hut and waited. She didn't have to wait long. Malfoy senior, the pompous git, was strolling down the hill with an arrogant smirk pasted on his face. She stood and met him halfway up the hill.

"Malfoy senior," she started with a high accusatory voice. "Finally come to cast your vote."

"Err, good evening, miss?" his voice reflected his dumbfounded expression.

"Stella Morgan," she said briskly.

"Stella Morgan, yes, Draco has mentioned you once or twice," his expression turned mean. "Muggle born and unafraid to be breaking school curfews in these dangerous times, I see."

"Yes, unafraid because I was actually looking for you tonight," she said and his eyes widened slightly. "I figured that you would have chosen tonight as the completion of your plan to get rid of professor Dumbledore while relishing in all the attacks you have caused."

"What are you talking about, foolish little girl?" he growled taking on the defensive attitude much like Quirrel.

"What exactly did you want to get rid of so badly that your old master had entrusted you with?" she asked.

Exactly as Quirrel had been; she was sent running for the Forbidden Forest where she had spent most of the evening hiding. She had yelled a scream of frustration at those old Death Eaters for messing with her investigations. A passing Centaur had told her to keep it down when she suddenly had an idea. Knowing that it would only aggravate the Curse's intent and that it would serve to make the Guild very upset, she carried on anyway desperate for answers. She pulled into herself and tapped into that eerie Death-like power and felt for dead creatures. Pushing aside the sickly and weak she found a recently dead Doe.

Finding it magically wasn't the difficulty, ambling around in the dark wishing for light while knowing it would only give her away was her problem. She guessed that it was about midnight by the time she had located it. Glad that the Locomotor charm did not have any flashing lights she navigated her way back to the edge of the forest where she waited until dawn had approached. She sleekly made her way to the front doors and when the change-over of professors happened she dragged herself and the Doe inside making her way up the stairs. With a determined expression she charged down the second floor corridor, ignored the "out of order" sign on the girl's bathroom door and stopped in front of the sinks.

It had been a long time since she had spoken Parseltongue as it was so negatively perceived not even the Andors spoke it amongst each other. Her last time was with a small garden snake that had gotten injured and was unable to help itself. She surprised herself, however, when the words aimed at the broken sink hissed out and produced a reaction from the plumbing. With a triumphant yelp she tossed the Doe into the hole and jumped in after it. Her landing had made her feel filthy as she took in the grime covered surroundings. She sighed and heaved the Doe up over her shoulder and carried on through the tunnels under the school. When she had finally reached the Chamber itself she was panting heavily, but her satisfied huff made her feel at ease. She had dragged the Doe to the foot of the statue of Salazar Slytherin and called for the Basilisk to show itself. She screwed her eyes shut as she heard a rustling sound.

"Heir of Slytherin, what commands do you have for me today?" the Basilisk hissed as it drew nearer.

"First I have a feast for you," she replied pointing to the carcass. "Next I want to ask you some questions."

"The promised feast!" it hissed in delight. "A new master comes and she is nicer than the last."

"Yes, I wanted to ask you about your old masters," she hissed curtly.

"Ask away," it was slithering around her at that point.

"Many years ago you had a male master, tell me everything about him," she sat down waiting for the explanation.

"Ah, yes, that master," it ruminated. "He had many promises for fresh meat which I never got. He was a Prefect so he was able to sneak around and give me my commands and he was excellent at conversation. Then I must have displeased him by killing that girl upstairs because he locked the doors and never came back with my promised feast."

"Tell me about the day the girl died," she hissed digging for clues.

"It was very fast, the girl was gone before I even registered her, but my master was in pain," it hissed this with sadness. "In that time I thought my master was going to die leaving me alone, but I was proven wrong. Out of his body came a dark mist and struck his book that he wrote everything in. After a while everything was fine and he sent me back to the Chamber. That was the last time I saw him."

"Your new master, can you describe him or her?" she asked excitedly.

"She smells funny, she is like the old master, but she doesn't feel like the heir like you do," it started. "She is small and has red hair. She carries old master's book with her whenever she is with me."

"Interesting," she mused. "What else?"

"There isn't more to tell," it hissed. "She comes in and sets me free to go kill, much like last time. Except she is like you, she doesn't wear Slytherin's robes; she wears the robes of red."

"Excellent," she hissed with more force than was necessary and stood. "You have been most wonderful."

"Is new master leaving so early?" the tone of the snake's hiss made her heart clench uncomfortably.

"Yes, I have class," she hissed gently and turned towards the entrance. "If I can sneak past the teachers again, I will bring you something better to eat."

"You are different!" it hissed loudly after her as she walked away. "Not many are this kind. Your soul smells nicer too, good."

"You really think so?" this had made her pause and she almost turned to look at the snake.

"Yes," it replied.

"Thank you; that really meant a lot to me," she hissed and made her exit her heart beating excitedly.

The moment she had gotten out of the Chamber she had yelled a victorious whoop of joy at finding out her greatest clue in the case, unfortunately for her professor Snape was patrolling the second floor corridor at the time and had caught her, filthy, in the bathroom. She figured that her luck had run out at that point and graciously accepted his harsh telling off, her mood still very high and cheerful. He had regarded her with a bewildered expression when she skipped after him to professor McGonagall's office because he had no idea what to do with her. The two professors had discussed her for a while until she had suddenly stood saying that she had to go to the Library and ran off while they stood flabbergasted and open mouthed unable to do anything in their shock.

Where she had actually disappeared to was the Astronomy Tower where she hid for the rest of the day while going through her Mind Palace. The "who" was now painfully obvious, Ginerva Weasley. The "how" was why she was going through her Mind Palace. The people that she had immediately selected were the Andors, the experts on everything dark. It took her some time before they had come to the conclusion: Horcruxes. She went cold, but knew that she had to test her theory. Reaching in for the second time she focussed on the stone and the Master of the stone. It was very difficult to focus on her objective because, unlike with Potter and professor Dumbledore, Riddle's soul was in a mangled state of disrepair. She gasped out in pain when she had felt his emptiness, his conscious state of nothingness and utter agony. She clutched her head fighting his darkness that threatened to overwhelm her, that wanted to command her and she focussed on his soul. It was the most maddening experience she had ever had and it made her want to throw herself over the railings to end it, but a sudden image of the Holmes brothers chased the darkness away and she was able to branch out and locate his soul.

It was a confusing blur of locations: Albania, Harry Potter (?!), somewhere in Hogwarts, Albania again, an old Wizarding mansion where dust gathered, a Gringotts vault deep underground, a derelict shack and finally she focussed on a dairy where emotional memories swirled in someone's bag right in the castle at the Gryffindor table. Finding what she wanted, she attempted to pull out Riddle's soul, but found that she was dragged right back to Albania where that fragment had attempted to talk to her. Frightened, she cut the connection prematurely and was thrown violently back into her body only to find that she had another problem. Patrolling teachers were coming her way. She calculated a quick route out of the Astronomy Tower and, giving it her best, ran as fast as she had ever done in her life.

After her episode, as the teachers were now calling it, she had been chaperoned with more care than the other students. She figured that a staff meeting had been called to discuss how she had been slipping away unnoticed and how to further prevent her from doing any further wandering, but she wasn't fazed much. After all, she had finally solved the puzzle and, seeing as there was no professor Dumbledore to report to, all she could do was worry about the final conclusion of that year's bloody chapter. The teachers took her worried compliance with a pinch of pride thinking that she had been cowed by them, but still insisted that she walked next to them in between classes.

Still, true to her word, she had slipped away from Professor Lockhart on several occasions to visit and feed the Basilisk in the Chamber always making sure that her timing did not arouse suspicions with the teachers. She found that she enjoyed the company of the great snake because she could finally be honest with another and vent her problems with the world with it. The snake, she figured, enjoyed hers because she didn't command it around and fed it something other than the rats which scurried in the sewers. Eventually the day had come when the entire school was sent to their common rooms without any reason and an emergency staff meeting was called. She had sighed and slipped away to the Library, a place of quiet solace, where she waited with a heavy heart. Potter and his friend Weasley would most likely be involved as well as Weasley's sister. Riddle's Horcrux would obviously put up a fight, maybe they had even discovered the Chamber and maybe they would be down there very soon. The Basilisk would get dragged into the mess, as poor creatures usually are, and it wouldn't stand a chance. She felt inclined to have a peak, but decided against it because knowing the truth would only upset her more. The world grew dark around her and she stayed awake not bothering with any lighting. When the sky started turning light again she got up and her feet carried her to the second floor bathroom.

Would it all be over? Her answer came to her as the sink opened up and out came a Phoenix carrying professor Lockhart (?!), the two Weasleys and a blood covered Potter. They reacted suspiciously at first, but her resigned features maybe had them pitying her and they followed the Phoenix to professor McGonagall's office. She followed them inside and found a corner to sit in while everyone spoke. For once she didn't take note of anything that was happening around her because, for some reason, her heart felt heavy despite the puzzle becoming public knowledge. She felt as if all her efforts were a waste, that nothing fruitful came of her information anyway and that she shouldn't attempt to figure anything out if lives weren't saved. She sighed.

"I was wondering when you were going to make any indication that you were present," professor Dumbledore said catching her attention to the suddenly empty room and she saw him gesturing to the seat in front of him. "Please, have a seat."

With a scrape she got up and flopped into the seat in front of him while looking glumly at the space just in front of his face.

"When did you figure it all out?" he asked calmly.

"The evening after Malfoy senior took you away," she replied monotone.

"Ah, I see, professor McGonagall was just regaling me with the tale of how you caused the teachers some problems with sticking with the crowd," he said in a contemplative tone. "How did you figure it out?"

"Potter's rogue bludger gave me the perfect opportunity to eavesdrop on his and Dobby's conversation. I put two and two together and figured that Riddle had given Malfoy senior something to sweat about. After which I did a lot of research and watching of the students to figure out the rest," she replied placing an imaginary memory of herself in her mind.

"What happened with that day you simply vanished?" he asked.

"Malfoy senior tried to attack me so I hid in the Forest for the evening where I knew I would be safe and after the changeover of patrol shifts I did some serious digging which kept me too busy to attend lessons," she shifted in her seat.

"In the beginning you knew that it was only Tom Riddle who could open the Chamber. How did you know this and, most importantly, how are you so well informed about the Wizarding World?" he gazed into her eyes only this time she had the mirror up.

"When I got my letter I wanted to be knowledgeable enough to fit in," she started their contingency lie. "Of course my drive for knowledge went a bit far, the digging too much and information I assumed was on public display was found by me. I don't stop when there is a puzzle presented to me especially if the puzzle involves my morals."

"Ah, no wonder the Hat had little hesitation in putting you in Ravenclaw, but your bravery astounds me that you aren't a Gryffindor," he said as if to himself and then to her. "You have shown immense courage this year, but also a great deal of disregard for the rules. Professors Snape and McGonagall would have you expelled, however, I think it is mutually beneficial that you remain at Hogwarts. I want to impress on you though, that you shouldn't confront Death Eaters anymore or you may become the centre of speculation among them."

"And we really can't afford that," she said her sarcastic tone hiding the truth of that irritating fact.

"Seriously, Miss Morgan, if your prediction about Tom Riddle coming back holds any weight then you may be the ideal candidate for an assassination," he looked at her earnestly as if urging her to see the truth of his words.

"I know, sir, I am well researched in how he hates Muggles and the like because of his father's abandonment and the way he was raised," her voice lacked any mirth this time. "I think I understand this better than many people."

"Good," he was impressed, but seemed to muse on something before his expression turned inquisitive. "I know this may sound strange, but I find your name quite striking. Is there any chance you know of the legends around Death?"

"The abstract concept of Death or the tangible monster that hunts us down individually?" she wittily replied.

"Neither, sorry, an old learned mind likes to cause trouble for itself sometimes," she noticed his regret and reminiscence and felt sorry for him.

"Don't worry, sir, intelligence conquers everything," she said cheerfully.

"Indeed, but I do believe there is a feast to be had so we ought to get a move on," he said suddenly standing and she looked at him with a subdued expression.

"I don't think I will be going tonight, I think I want to go to bed and stay there until classes resume themselves," she stood and stretched herself out. "I have had many sleepless nights which I should remedy, don't you think?"

"True," he said as they made their way to the door. "Although, I think advising caution would be quite redundant."


	4. Formative Years: Part Three

Stella's summer vacation had arrived with much joy. In her past few weeks of school she had been relatively quiet only helping Lovegood track down her missing belongings which made the teachers regard her with much suspicion. The Basilisk she had paid her final respects to before leaving the Chamber for good. When asked by a trepid Stephen how her year had been she had shrugged her shoulders noncommittally and stated it was fine. The Guild and the Andors had reacted with much melodrama at the news of the Chamber's opening and briefly considered taking her away to their warded mansions until they had come to their senses and told her to keep quiet at Hogwarts. She enjoyed regaling the Holmes brothers of her year and her gall at using the link to solve the case had impressed them.

That summer Sherlock and Stella had set up an amateur detective agency posting flyers advertising themselves around the neighbourhood which was met with belittlement by Mycroft, but kept them busy to the relief of Mrs Holmes. They had found Mrs Smith's cat which was hanging around Mr Jones's house who had taken to feeding it thinking that it was a stray. They had solved the case of who had been filching money out of the convenience store's register. They had also managed to catch whoever had been killing the power at an arcade. They even snuck into a crime scene where a boy just a few years older than them had been killed, the police had thought otherwise and sent them away with remarks about impertinent children while they fumed. That summer the three of them had discovered smoking which they kept well away from the house. Stella had promised that she would make a magical project out of it so that they wouldn't have to continually nick money from people to keep up their new habit which they seemed pleased about. Her Muggle summer bliss had been interrupted, however, when they were watching the news one evening and the reporter had informed them of an escaped prisoner called Sirius Black. She had looked meaningfully at the two of them and, understanding her cue, they moved outside to their "discussions corner".

"He's innocent," was the first thing she said. "I would need to do some digging at Hogwarts to find out the details, but I know."

"How," Sherlock asked excitedly.

"Remember how when I was two I was having those Morgan related nightmares?" she asked and their heads nodded. "Well, one of those nightmares exonerates Sirius Black of being a Death Eater. Peter Pettigrew was the one to become the Potter's Secret Keeper and he was the one who told Tom Riddle where they were hiding. I remember Black and the late Potter having a conversation and I don't think Black would be very inclined to start, let alone part-take in, a mindless killing spree either."

"Well how do you explain the lack of a Peter Pettigrew?" Mycroft asked and continued. "People can't disappear in such a short amount of time and the physical appearance would be a sure sign."

"There is the Polyjuice Potion, but I know that the three of them could turn into animals," she mused.

"So to solve the mystery you just need to find out what Pettigrew could turn into," Sherlock concluded happily.

"Yes, it will be a nightmare of digging and trying to remember everything, but I need to do it," she sighed at another mission starting so early.

"You don't need to do anything, you want to do it," Mycroft reminded her.

"Of course she needs to!" Sherlock burst out. "Stella is our Wizarding researcher!"

Very soon an owl had delivered Stella's Hogwarts requirements list and she had delighted in tearing down every Wanted Poster of Sirius Black in Diagon Alley until Stephen had told her to stop horsing around or people would become suspicious. She had noticed that several Ministry paid people had become Potter's shadow at the Leaky Cauldron inn and scoffed at the thought of the Ministry thinking that Black would want to attack his own godson. That September first was the first and only difficult train ride she had experienced. She was thankful that the Dementor hadn't stopped by her compartment, but she still moaned in agony as Potter was targeted and for the first time in ages that terrible evening was bought up. She had never hated Death's curse so much before then as that sharp pain drove itself into her heart and flashes of Lily Potter's death flickered across her eyes.

She had vowed to find a way around the Dementor problem as she shivered in the Great Hall waiting for the first years to pitch for the Sorting Ceremony. When professor Dumbledore had announced that the Dementors were going to be sticking around for a while she had lost her cool and had found a lavatory to go throw up in anxiety. She didn't care that she wasn't supposed to know about Black's innocence, she was just so sick of the stupid responses the Wizarding World had dreamed up. Lovegood had mercifully made no comments about her pale complexion that evening.

During her first week back at Hogwarts, Stella had been disinterested in the Hippogriff debacle with Malfoy and the stir that Potter's first Divination lesson had incurred with the ridiculous rumour of him having the Grim. She had thrown herself into Animagus research, sneaking into the Library, in an attempt to find out what animal Pettigrew could turn into while bemoaning her lack of concentration at the time of James Potter's existence. Black's sighting didn't help matters either because it threw her concentration off. The teachers had thankfully been far too focussed on Potter's safety to bother watching her investigation, but one Defence class made her worry about their attention. When she had found out that Boggarts were the topic of the lesson that day she had spluttered and tried to edge her way to the back of the line only to end up in front of Potter. She found she had no choice, but to comply as she trembled while walking towards the wavering Boggart. There were a few seconds before it morphed into Death, skeletal and shrouded in a dark cloak the twisted face turned to her and opened its mouth.

"You thought you could hide from me!" it yelled. "I have killed your brothers and now I am going to take you forever, Morgana!"

"No, you haven't!" she yelled all rational thought escaping her.

"Imagine their disappointment, their loathing, their fear," the creature mused cruelly.

"They won't be, _Riddikulus_!" she yelled tears prickling at her eyes while pointing her wand at it to no effect and did not notice professor Lupin taking over as she turned her head in shame.

As professor Lupin concluded the lesson with their assignment, she glumly stood in the corner trying to avert eye contact with any curious class members. When everyone started filing out of the staff room to collect their bags she resolutely put some distance between her and the others before the teacher in question called her name.

"Yes, sir?" she had turned to face him as he caught up to her.

"You looked rather upset with that Boggart and I was wondering if you needed anyone to talk to about it," he had said with much sincerity.

"Oh, no thank you, I am quite fine to deal with little insecurities while the rest of the castle concerns itself with protecting Harry Potter against an innocent man," she said eyeing Potter in the distance.

"What do you mean?" he asked suddenly alert and suspicious.

"Nothing, at least until my investigation is over and I can gloat about it," she said.

"Investigation, you can't be thinking of making an investigation of this, can you?" he looked around nervously.

"Of course not!" she lied and suddenly grinned feeling much better for his reaction. "That would be dangerous!"

"But you just said-" he started.

"Said what?" she asked innocently. "Anyway I better be off, classes need to be attended and essays don't write themselves."

"No, they don't," he said utterly confused and something in that instant reminded her of a hazy memory from when she was about one years old.

"Thank you for your enlightening conversation, sir," she said her voice falsely cheerful as she turned and contemplated her memory.

Nothing of much note had happened except for Stella figuring out what the memory had contained which had made her very happy. It had seemed that professor Lupin was also very close to James Potter, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew. So close in fact that he knew about their Animagus capabilities and they knew about his monthly condition. Exactly what that condition was, was another case that Stella had put on the back burner until she knew about Pettigrew's animal form. Professor Lupin, it seemed had spoken to the other teachers about her and her extra credit had started again which made her very unhappy that she was hindered in her investigative process again. She concluded that sleep would have to become minimal in order to have everything done. It wasn't until October the thirty-first that she had any luck with her movements forward.

She had received a package pertaining to their project from the Holmes brothers that morning in the Great Hall and had run off to her common room to pack it away. As it was a Hogsmead day, she had made an appointment with Sarah Andor at the Hog's Head which she made it to despite her fears about passing the Dementors at the gates. She happily sat down to a steaming cup of coffee while Sarah had ordered a Butterbeer sneering at the concept of coffee.

"So what is ailing you so much that you risk our secrecy in bringing me so close to the public eye?" Sarah asked in a cutting tone.

"The Dementors," Stella replied and shivered. "They are bringing up those memories again, of when Riddle got himself blasted out of his body."

"Ah, Riddle, our interesting little relative," Sarah mused with a cunning smirk. "So what's the problem of seeing him destroying himself over and over again?"

"It hurts!" Stella hissed. "Not to mention the Death thing has me quite debilitated."

"Fine," Sarah sighed in aggravation. "What do you need?"

"I need to know how to defend myself against Dementors. Do you have a spell, or an enchanted object for the job?" Stella leant back in her seat expectantly.

"Well, there is the common method of the Patronus Charm, but I don't know if it would work with you learning the theory and then trying to apply it practically," Sarah said contemplatively.

"What other option do we have, though?" Stella asked desperately.

"None that won't be obvious," Sarah seemed perturbed by that fact. "I want you practising the Patronus Charm wandlessly, though. It is an awful impediment to have lost one's wand and being incapable of protecting one's self."

"That sounds reasonable," Stella conceded.

"I also want a monthly update on your progress and once you have mastered it, I will want to observe your casting of it," Sarah instructed and carried on. "I will have the books sent to you via owl so be at breakfast on Monday, I know how much you love to gallivant around."

"Sure thing," Stella said with a light voice.

"Speaking of which, I take it you have uncovered many truths about the escape of Sirius Black?" Sarah eyed Stella with trepidation.

"Oh, yes! I figured out the majority of the case with Mycroft and Sherlock, I just needed to be reminded that someone else was involved later," Stella brightened up and explained all about how James Potter, Black and Pettigrew were Animaguses and that it was Pettigrew who had been the Secret Keeper of the Potters and how the entire case would be solved when she got an opportunity to talk to professor Lupin about their animal forms.

Stella had felt significantly better about the prospect of learning how to defend herself against the Dementors as she skipped back to the castle that afternoon. She was so giddy that she decided to proceed straight to the Library to recheck any errors on her project and didn't venture out until it was well after dark. She figured that it had been good enough time for the feast to have finished and made her way to the common room where she found it was absolutely deserted. The sight of things left unfinished cooled her blood and she instantly left the common room to search for where everyone had gone. She had wandered around not really bothering to pay attention until she had bumped into professor Lupin as they were just rounding a corner. He yelped a profanity and then demanded in a very serious voice why she wasn't in the Great Hall.

"Why? Is that where everyone has gone?" she asked in a curious voice.

"Yes!" he exclaimed looking around madly. "Haven't you heard?!"

"Heard what? I was in the Library until about an hour ago and when I got back no one was in the common room so I decided to go looking for them," she explained calmly.

"Sirius Black attacked the Fat Lady and now the castle is in lockdown," he shook his head at her explanation. "How come you weren't at the Feast?"

"I don't like Feasts," she replied. "Too many people and October the thirty-first puts me off anyway so I like to avoid it. Is everyone now looking for Black?"

"Yes, do you know where he could be?" he seemed desperate in his eager reply.

"Gone with the wind if he has any sense," she responded and her face suddenly brightened. "This is actually the perfect opportunity!"

"What?" he asked wearily.

"Can I quiz you on your Hogwarts days while you waste your time looking for him?" she asked brightly.

"Fine, but if anyone asks I am escorting you to the Great Hall," he warned her.

"Okay," she said and skipped along next to him. "Don't worry about any honesty getting you into trouble, I won't tell a soul."

That evening she learnt about how Pettigrew's Animagus form was a rat and that Black's was a dog. She also learnt about the root of professor Snape's apparent hatred for Harry Potter and that the cause of the convoluted plot was because professor Lupin was a werewolf. He had been very reticent in the beginning about opening up about those facts, but after she told him that she knew almost everything already he seemed very happy to share the load. By the morning she had enough information to conclude her case which made her feel victorious to the point of being smug. It was with great satisfaction that she left professor Lupin, looking confused and alarmed, as the sun was beginning to come up. Her mood didn't last long, however, on that Sunday as she realised that she had left her extra credit until the last minute meaning that her project would have to be put off until another day.

Her theory books on the Patronus Charm had arrived and with it an increase in her workload. It had seemed that this time the teachers didn't want her running around what with the "danger" that Black posed and were quite insistent on her having as much as possible to distract her. Ordinarily, with a complete case, she wouldn't have minded, but she was irked that she wouldn't have as much time to complete her project and master the Patronus Charm. She had written professor Dumbledore an angry letter demanding that the teachers calm down on the extra credit, that she was drowning as it was, but he had simply ignored it which infuriated her. Putting sleep and other such activities aside had helped significantly with her time, but not with her mood so she wandered around in an irritable mood snapping at people who had dared look in her direction. She had remained that way until the Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff Quidditch match. A strange instinct had urged her to attend and she had been pleasantly rewarded with the sight of a black dog innocuously seated on the top row. She fought through the storm and sat down next to the dog sending a warming charm around the area and held up her umbrella over the two of them.

"The name's Stella Morgan!" she yelled over the storm as the game began. "I know you are innocent!"

The dog gave her a quizzical yelp as a response.

"When the newsagent reported your escape I knew something was off so I did a lot of digging!" she explained. "What makes you think that Pettigrew is here?!"

The dog looked around and then pawed in the direction of Ron Weasley.

"Weasley's rat?!" she exclaimed. "No way, how do you know?"

The dog licked at her fingers and then did the best impression of reading a newspaper.

"So the papers told you where you could find him, eh? Don't worry, I will try to get professor Dumbledore to see reason this time!" she yelled.

The dog leaned into her appreciatively.

"You must be so proud of your godson!" she yelled gesturing to the sky.

When the Dementors had come, Stella was proud to have been able to maintain a silvery shield which had wavered once Potter had been targeted, but she had refocused herself and concentrated on being happy and at peace which held it up until professor Dumbledore had banished the soul sucking creatures. She lightly held on to the dog's paw as it whined when Potter fell and it almost seemed to let out a relieved breath when professor Dumbledore slowed his fall. They both had noted Potter's broomstick being swept away by gale force winds in the direction of the very angry Whomping Willow. Once everyone had cleared the stadium, Stella and the dog stood and made their way to a secluded area of the Forbidden Forest where the dog had assumed the form of Sirius Black. They sat down together on a protruding root glad for the cover of the trees. He spoke first.

"How did you know it was me?" he asked nervously.

"I spoke to professor Lupin about your Hogwarts days on Halloween and his guilty conscience made him break," she said simply. "Before you ask how I know that you are innocent, I just know. You were openly against your family of Rid- Voldemort supporters so it wouldn't make sense that you would betray your own sense of morals, further it would be odd that you would start a killing spree. No, the only logical rats, excuse the pun, would be Pettigrew who felt resentment being unnoticed and in his friends' shadows. All of that appraisal from Rid- Voldemort would lift his ego so high and he would finally feel that he is getting the attention he thought he deserved."

"Wow," was his only response and then he thought of something. "Hang on, how did you know that we were so close in the beginning? I thought you were a muggle born who didn't have parents to inform you."

"Indeed, I am, Mr Black, but my methods need to remain a big secret or then I wouldn't be able to continue with my investigations," she said and he looked at her bizarrely. "I have been keeping a running investigation into the Wizarding World to see if I decide that I want to stay in it."

"Well, do you?" he asked quizzically.

"Not right now," she sighed heavily. "The muggle world certainly treats me more fairly and I have more friends there."

"You don't have any friends?" he asked with a sceptical tone.

"There is Lovegood who likes hanging on to me, but my investigations take me to dangerous places and I don't want her getting dragged into ex-Death Eater nonsense," she replied.

"Need I ask more on that?" he asked.

"Nope, but this year is about you," she said suddenly. "What have you been trying to do about your Pettigrew problem other than trying to break in to the Gryffindor common room?"

"I have Crookshanks, Hermione Granger's cat, trying to get Pettigrew for me, but he hasn't been able to get the slimy rat because Ron Weasley seems quite attached to it," he said with irritation at that last bit.

"Hmm," she mused on his statement before seeming to agree with it. "Continue with that and then get the rat to me so that I can throw it into the Minister's face while clearing your name."

"You would do that?" he asked disbelievingly.

"Yes, I would," she said simply.

"Why?"

"I have a civic duty," she echoed her words to professor Dumbledore.

"But you are just a child, running into ex-Death Eaters, breaking more rules than I ever have, all when you seem to care more for the muggle world," he insisted and then warmer. "You don't have to do any of this."

"Yes, I do," she checked her watch. "I suspect that the Hospital Wing is empty by now, do you want to sneak in?"

"If you know how not to get caught," he said.

"I am Stella Morgan," she stated. "I never get caught."

They had visited a sleeping Potter, Black in dog form, while Madam Pomphrey slumped, stupefied, in her chair in her office. Black seemed to appreciate the time spent with his godson and had a bounce in his step when he walked back to the Forest with her. They had confirmed a plan of action and had parted ways. So over the next month and a half she had been relatively at ease with the workload that the teachers had given her and she was in good spirits enough to almost fully master the Patronus Charm. Her project with the Holmes brothers had been completed one Sunday afternoon and she was awaiting their response when the winter holiday came into effect.

She had decided that to make Black's idea for Potter's Christmas present easier and to give him some comfort over the winter break to take him with to the Holmes family as a stray dog that she was looking for a good home for. Mr and Mrs Holmes had reacted with the geniality of happy parents while Sherlock and Mycroft were ecstatic to meet the Sirius Black who had evaded capture. She had taken the three of them into Diagon Alley one day and did all the transactions for Black to purchase and send a Firebolt to Potter while letting Sherlock and Mycroft have a pick of whatever book they fancied at Flourish and Blotts. They had been very pleased to inform her that their project of a self filling and choice orientated cigarette box had been a success. Stella found that she enjoyed her limited time Christmas and was sad to leave for the second round of Hogwarts.

They had arrived back to see that much suspicion had arisen from the anonymous Firebolt and were disappointed to see that it had been taken away to check whether or not it had any malicious spells placed on it. In retrospect they had conceded that maybe a small note would have been better to allay any fears. Stella was largely disappointed to see that Potter and Weasley were ignoring Granger, who had raised the concern with professor McGonagall, and often sat at the same table as her at the Library just to make her feel as if she had company. With the increase in actual school work came an increase in her extra credit which left her in an irritable mood making her isolation worse. What had cheered her up was that she had finally managed to produce a corporeal Patronus on several occasions and she had skipped through the corridors that week with a grin on her face which only made the teachers anxious.

When Black had attempted to get Pettigrew from the Gryffindor common room, she had been in the Library and was not pleased that it had resulted in an extra Charms assignment due the next day. She had made it quite clear to him that he needed to wait until Crookshanks sniffed out and delivered the rat to him. The next few months had seemed to fly for her; she had been so stuck in school work, an increasing load of extra credit and in perfecting a corporeal Patronus Charm that time had seemed to vanish. When she had looked up to see that exams were starting in a week she had an anxiety attack which had her bound to the Hospital Wing for the evening with an ease up on her extra credit. By the end of the exams she had almost forgotten all about her plan with Black only to be reminded of it the day after.

He had sent her a letter explaining that Pettigrew had escaped into the night while Potter, Weasley and Granger were aware of the truth and that he was on the run with a condemned Hippogriff. He had also expressed his gratitude for her assistance and said that he would try to keep in contact. Frustrated that she had failed in her mission to bring Pettigrew to justice, she had set out on a power walk around the castle to cool off and vent her ire by making her legs struggle with the demand. She hadn't been watching where she had been walking and had bumped into professor Dumbledore almost sending them sprawling.

"Good Merlin, my dear, watch where you are walking!" he had exclaimed in surprise. "Oh, Miss Morgan, fancy running into you here."

"Good day professor," she had glumly said while straightening herself out. "I wasn't quite anticipating anyone to be wondering around on a day like this."

"No, I wouldn't either," he said taking in her mood. "What seems to be the matter?"

"I have failed again!" she exclaimed, her frustration finally getting the better of her. "Once again I haven't been able to bring another person to justice!"

"I take it you have figured everything out despite the teachers' excessive workload," he said with his signature twinkle, but she wasn't fooled and had up her defences.

"I had it figured within the first half of the school year, I was simply waiting for Mr Black to deliver the rat to me so that I could bring the slimy traitor to justice," she said her opinion of Pettigrew hardening her tone at the end.

"Interesting, so you were the one at the top of the stands the day Harry fell," he mused. "Why are you studying Patronuses?"

"The Dementors bring me back to when my mother died when I was little," she lied. "It was irritating and getting in my way."

"How young were you when she died?" he asked with that curious gleam in his eyes again.

"My birth murdered her," she replied flatly with an edge to her voice and eyes. "I have a Potions essay that I need to write; if you would please excuse me, professor Snape doesn't delight in his extra credit being handed in late."

With that they had parted ways. Stella had completed all of her remaining extra credit assignments in the last few days of school and had mercifully been handed none for the summer holidays. She had finally managed to master the Patronus Charm to her standards which meant sending out a message in the form of one to Sarah to inform her of this. Her silvery Thestral flying into the darkness was another grim reminder that she had failed in some respects to be exactly what her father had wanted; not Death's child reincarnate. Nevertheless she had enjoyed waving farewell to the gates of Hogwarts at the end of the school year, but she was put off and hid from Potter and his friends on the train as soon as she had overheard them saying that they wanted to thank her for helping Black.

Stephen had seemed oblivious when he had collected her from the station and had uncharacteristically asked if she had wanted to go to the Theatre that evening which seemed like a perfectly Muggle thing to her and she instantly agreed. During her first week back her Patronus Charm examination had taken place at the Andors well warded house. The Andors were massively impressed with her skill and wanted to test it out on a real Dementor, but having none the idea was instantly vetoed; the Guild had quickly scribbled down notes on her interesting form and asked if she had been using any of Death's magic which she had replied that she had not. All of them had been relatively impressed and had given her a pass for her progress update.

Her summer had started off blissfully, but a curious bored peak into Riddle's soul had broken that blissful bubble quite effectively. Pettigrew's successful relocation of Riddle had made her sour. The rat bringing Bertha Jorkins to her grave had made her irate. Riddle's successful transition from intangible soul-like creature into the foetus had made her blood boil. The pair of them getting into the United Kingdom had made her accidently break a vase in anger. Their location of Barty Crouch Junior after the debacle at the Quidditch World Cup had made her furious.

However, when she learnt about their plan she had thrown up in anxiety and disgust and spent the rest of the day in the foetal position in terror. She had been helpless throughout the summer to do anything about what she was seeing, but as much as it hurt and aggravated her she had continued peering into Riddle's soul intent on learning as much as possible until she had arrived back at Hogwarts. For the first time the Holmes brothers had nothing to say, not knowing how any of them could be of any help at that current stage. When September the first had come, Stella was anxious to board the train and get her information to Professor Dumbledore. Her plans had been hindered, though.

By the time she had reached the Great Hall she had been drenched to the bone by the rain and Peeves throwing water balloons at everyone thus spoiling her notes, she had become overwhelmed by a sudden case of anxiety driven nausea and she was held up by the many students attempting to get into the Great Hall. Her plans ruined she sat next to Lovegood shivering, because she wasn't bothered enough to cast a drying or warming charm, as she muttered mutinously under her breath about failures and conniving dark lords who conspired with Death to thwart her. Lovegood had simply started gibbering about her imaginary creatures which were interfering with the weather and, most importantly, her brain waves making her confused and upset.

She had glared when Crouch, disguised as Professor Moody, arrived making him regard her quizzically. At professor Dumbledore's announcement of the Triwizard Tournament she had taken to repeatedly banging her head on the table in front of her which did not go unnoticed by those around her. She had tried waiting for the end of the Feast to talk to Professor Dumbledore, but he had seemed eager to catch up with his "old friend" and see what the delay had been so she had sullenly went for a walk instead in the pouring rain.

During her first month she had tried desperately to contact the Headmaster, however, he had been too busy to slot in a time for her so she had taken to glaring defiantly at Crouch throughout his lessons and had smirked at his surprise when she had thrown off his Imperius Curse completely for the first time. The Andors had been particularly antsy about getting her resistance to the first two Unforgivable Curses to a stellar level which she was then glad about.

October had arrived yielding no further opportunities to get her information which had been re-written to the Headmaster and she had a fowl scowl on her face as everyone had been forced to meet the delegations from the other schools. She had been largely unimpressed by their arrival and had seemed to fit in with the sullen looks that the Beauxbatons students were wearing at the Ravenclaw table. She and Lovegood had ended up next to someone who she had identified as part Veela and glanced around furtively to see whether any of the male Hogwarts students had noticed. Sometime during the Feast the girl had struck up conversation with Stella, surprising her out of her gloomy mood.

"I hadn't thought that there would be so much food here," the girl said in a heavy French accent.

"There usually isn't," Stella replied darkly.

"Fleur Delacour; and you are?" Delacour stuck out her hand.

"Stella Morgan, pleased to make your acquaintance," she introduced herself warily shaking hands with Delacour.

"Oh, a Morgan," Delacour exclaimed excitedly. "My History of Magic teacher would be very interested. Last year we studied all the rumours of the Morgan Squib Line Curse and were so disappointed to not find any good books on the subject. Do you know anything about it?"

"I have a vague idea," she replied. "Something about a vengeful Death, a conniving Merlin and Morgana is all I have heard about it."

"Then you know so much more than the normal person!" Delacour gestured to the girl besides her. "Claudia, I have found someone who knows about the Morgan Squib Line Curse!"

The two of them jabbered on excitedly as Stella found herself panicking about an exit to the conversation. This had been the reason why the Guild and the Andors had been so happy about the idea of her being away from mainland Europe, the rumour hadn't been fully stamped out and ideas, romantic fantasies, still flew around in the minds of those who were interested.

She had been saved by the start of Professor Dumbledore's speech and she silently thanked him and the luck of timing. When the Goblet of Fire had been taken out and the deadline for submissions had been set, she had an idea to prevent Riddle's plan which brightened her mood considerably. She had waited for the Great Hall to clear telling Lovegood that she had something to do in the Library and eagerly walked along Professor Dumbledore as he carried the Goblet to the Entrance Hall. Bagman and Crouch Senior had regarded her oddly as she watched Professor Dumbledore draw the Age Line with a broad smile. The Headmaster had finally noticed her presence and had asked her what she was up to.

"I am not moving from this spot at all," she had said brightly.

"Why is that?" he asked while the others had moved off.

"I am guarding the Goblet, sir," she said rocking on her heals. "Something bad is going to want to happen and I am going to stop it."

"What is going to happen and how do you intend on stopping it?" he asked humouring her.

"Someone is going to try to put Harry Potter's name in the Goblet, but I am going to stun them," she conjured up a chair and sat down.

"Why would anyone want to do that?" he asked his demeanour light, but concern touched his eyes.

"Because there is always a plot, but this time I have a counter plan," she said focussing her eyes on the Goblet.

"Well, alright," he said in disbelief seeming to cast off her concerns. "Don't break curfew this time, or you know what your investigations will get you."

"Don't worry, everything is figured out already," she said cheerily. "Good night Professor."

He had left, but her plan had failed. Wand already grasped in her hand, she rose to take on Crouch Junior, and he had been too quick and stunned her keeping the magical eye trained on her as he hoodwinked the Goblet of Fire and entered Potter into the Tournament. He considered her, but his master had told him that he had special plans for Mudbloods that messed with his plans and that this one needed researching. He left her sprawled on the ground and when Stella had eventually roused she had let out an angry yell of frustration which had her with a black mood which had been aggravated when Potter's name had been spat out of the Goblet.

That evening she had taken to blasting a few windows to smithereens in a few abandoned classrooms while yelling profanities at Death, attempting to curse away an irritating Peeves and snarling at the ghosts that attempted to intervene. She had relaxed by the end of the weekend into a miserable stupor which Lovegood had been creative in her attempts to eradicate.

Her extra credit had started again, for some inexplicable reason, and in her darkened mood she had wondered what would happen if she refused to do it and owled Professor Dumbledore about it. She had received an amused reply stating that her extra credit was very vital to her continued success and that it was a healthy alternative to the detentions that Professors Snape and McGonagall had dreamed up. Deciding that she preferred learning about N.E.W.T level work by then, she continued begrudgingly with her extra credit work and wondered faintly if the teachers had anything planned for the next year if they continued with it. It was through this though, that her mind had come up with the brilliant idea of shadowing Potter though out the year to ensure his protection. Upon reviewing her workload, however, she realised that Lovegood may have her uses and a quick modification of the Protean Charm had her grinning as she gave Lovegood her assignment telling her that Potter's ignorance of their spying was very important.

She was glad that her afternoon of the first task was free enough to be able to watch Potter herself, but wasn't pleased to see that dragons were the obstacle to each champion's golden egg, the clue for the next task she had figured. However, she was happy and jumped around with vigorous joy when Potter had escaped with only a cut on his shoulder earning her an odd look from Lovegood who had asked if she needed to shadow him that day.

"Potter will be fine today, the intruder is now plotting his next step," she had replied to her partner's bewildered stare as they had settled into the Ravenclaw common room that evening.

Stella had been proud to say that the rest of the year had progressed like clockwork, having Lovegood and herself taking shifts to watch Potter, managing her insane workload and giving the both of them a good Christmas break. Preferring the tranquillity and peacefulness of home over the incessant babble and commotion of the Yule Ball, they had elected to go to their respective families and Stella had enjoyed her break with the Holmes brothers while filling them in on what had happened at Hogwarts. She and the brothers had outlined a new plan of action to prevent Riddle's plot, which included kidnapping Potter before the final task thus preventing his getting hold of the Triwizard Cup.

She was glad for an incident free return to school and had started preparing herself for their plan which she had gotten Lovegood's assistance with, she had convinced her that the plan was vital to the continued existence of life itself. She had been so sure of the plan's success that she hadn't made a contingency plan and had taken her extra credit with a smirk while the rest of the school year had flown. So it was with an air of confidence that she found herself sneaking along the seventh floor late at night on June the twenty-third in search of the Fat Lady's portrait. She was about to settle in for her watch when an irate Professor Snape caught her. Against her protests she was dragged by him to Professor Dumbledore's office where he delighted in telling the Headmaster about her recent in rule breakings. He certainly was sullen when he was dismissed and looked as if he had chewed on a lemon when he billowed out of the room. Stella had been told to sit down and explain herself. She weighed her options and decided to be selective in her explanation.

"Tomorrow, during the final task, something bad is going to happen," she began uncertainly. "Harry Potter must be prevented from taking part in the final task; I was going to be kidnapping him tonight to have an automatic disqualification from the task. I know that there is a plot to bring Riddle back, Potter will be drawn into this, and also Professor Moody isn't who he says he is."

"Mm," he hummed frowning at her. "Can you explain how you found this out and give evidence to support your claims?"

"I can't," she felt hopeless for the first time. "I just know that all these terrible thing s are going to happen, the imposter stopped me in the beginning, and I just need you to believe me for once."

"Miss Morgan," he started and sighed going cross eyed. "While your claims might have validity with certain proof, one cannot go on "I just know"."

"So you don't believe me?" she stared at him incredulously. "I was right about Quirrel, I knew about Riddle, I got the mystery of Sirius Black and when I tell you that Riddle is planning to use Potter in the final task to come back to life because of a gut feeling which you then don't believe me of-"

"Well if you perhaps told me how and why you know, then I could take the appropriate action, but right now we have a diplomatic image to uphold and until something actually happens I cannot act on mere words," he explained, his eyes looking sad.

"So nothing is going to happen to prevent Riddle's return and Potter's potential doom?" she felt a crushing weight begin to settle on her heart.

"Unfortunately not," he said his eyes X-raying hers. "What is going to happen now is that you will be escorted to the Hospital Wing where you will be put under a dreamless sleep potion. Tomorrow you will be escorted to your exam and when it is time for the final task you will be escorted down where you will be watched and where you will see that nothing bad will happen because the proof is what validates your fears."

"But-" she started indignation rising.

"No buts, I would have hoped that your extra credit would have put you out of harm's way, I was mistaken," he rose. "Now if you will follow me."

He escorted her to the Hospital Wing, humiliation, anger, hopeless desperation and fear welling up in her as he explained to Madam Pomphrey the importance of keeping her bound to her bed and out of trouble. Her eyes prickled as he apologised to her and left her to her wallowing; she didn't even protest as the Dreamless Sleep Potion was poured down her throat sending her into an oblivious sleep. She had nodded meekly when, instead of being taken to her exam, it was delivered to her and quickly scribbled her answers down passing it back without a second glance over, she knew that she would get an E at the very least anyway.

She was allowed a brief shower before Professor Snape took her down to the Quidditch pitch and sat her down in the teachers section while glaring at her silently daring her to cause trouble. Resigned to her fate she leant back and fell into a trance, seeing the world from the perspective of Potter. There were the slightest of gasps when he found himself in trouble, the smallest of twitches when Potter and Cedric Diggory landed in the graveyard, an eyelid flutter at Diggory's murder, a slight whine at the back of her throat at Riddle's return, a cough when the wands connected all which went unnoticed by her watchers. The return of Potter and the descent into mayhem was all the distraction she needed as she slipped away following Crouch Junior as he pulled Potter into his office. She had enough when she heard him threaten him and barged in to stand in between the two, her mind throwing caution to the wind and impulsivity ruled her actions.

"You're going to have to kill me to get through to him!" she had yelled.

"Very well, the Dark Lord will be disappointed, but he will understand," he mused and then. " _Avada Kedavra_!"


End file.
